In the Hands of Fate
by LadyAvatar
Summary: In which the spirits are up to shenanigans with Tahno and the Uhvatar. Now when she falls asleep, he falls asleep (even if he's driving). When he gets drunk, she gets drunk (even if she's fighting Equalists). And if one of them dies, well. They'd better watch each other's back if they hope to get out of this mess alive. Written for the "Twelve Days of Tahnorra."
1. Beginning

_A/N: *Waves* Greetings! So, I've never written this particular pairing before even though they're my top OTP in all of LoK, but I found out about the "Twelve Days of Tahnorra" over on Tumblr and decided to add in my own take on things. Warning: I literally found out about this celebration on 12/13 thanks to the fabulous shoeninja and have never attempted drabbles, so these one-shots may be somewhat crappy because they're mostly random/unplanned and are quickly written (I'm in the midst of finals weeks at my college). The premise: this one-shot begins at some point during "The Spirit of Competition" and considers what would happen if Tahno and Korra were linked by a spirit bond because the spirits believe our young waterbenders can help one another. If this first one-shot proves popular per your review comments, I will retain this linear theme/story for the entire collection. _

It begins when Tenzin asks why Korra looks groggy at their morning meditation session on Air Temple Island.

"I haven't slept in three nights," she admits, which is true. Each night she rolled over and over on her bed and even punched her pillow until the brink of exhaustion, but sleep would not come to her. Not only that, but there was the slight matter of her racing heart and shallow breathing, the distant pain in her arms and legs as if she were viciously training or wildly dancing way past midnight. Last night was worse than the previous two. She was lying in bed when suddenly her heart stopped, literally, and then felt like it was about to rip through the paper-thin walls of her chest. She rolled off her bed and crawled to the door, gasping, wondering if this is what a heart attack felt like—but, suddenly, her heart resumed its usual calm beating. Korra was left panting on the floor, her hand fisted against the valley between her breasts.

"Are you ill?" her airbending mentor asks, now concerned. Meelo, Ikki, and Jinora blink at her curiously, still sitting quietly in proper lotus positions.

Korra _is _ill, though not from the long sleepless hours. She's ill with the memory of that disgusting sleazy bastard it was her miserable misfortune to brush past three nights ago at Narook's Seaweed Noodlery. A portrait of his body has stuck with her. He is a man who tilts, though this is not a matter of lazy posture. When he approached her dinner table, he purposefully slanted his head or leaned to always be off-center. He is the kind of person who is probably vain about all parts of his body: eyes (a commanding gaze), mouth (he is always smirking; his mouth arched downward is merely an ironic smile), hair (the most important feature). Leaning draws attention. Emphasizes the charm he believes himself to possess, the charm that apparently gives him permission to coo such things as _if you'd like to learn how a real pro bends, I could give you some private lessons._

She hates him.

"I'm fine," she tells Tenzin. "Just . . . restless. I'm worried about the next pro-bending match."

Wait. Oops. Her mentor's eyes harden, grow flat and narrow as coins. She realizes bringing up the match was a mistake.

"Korra, you must focus on your airbending. There is a great threat to the city, and the world needs its Avatar. This distraction—"

"I know, I _know_," she says. "Sorry, I just . . . listen, I'm going to ask Pema for some herbal tea. I need a nap or I'll pass out." She yawns and rubs her eyes for emphasis.

Tenzin pinches the bridge of his nose but says nothing as Korra gets up. Jinora and Ikki shoot her questioning looks. The oldest airbending child silently mouths something suspiciously like _boys? _but Korra is too tired to deal with it. She wanders across the island and staggers into the kitchen where she drops her head on the counter. She's half-snoozing while Pema warms up tea in a kettle, which would normally be Korra's job as the firebender but she's not up for bending in this state. Mako will definitely be pissed off that she's skipping their morning training session. Whatever. She wouldn't be very useful, and besides. That firebending captain of theirs should have let her skip out after yesterday's mishap, anyway.

It was just the sleep deprivation getting to her, she was sure, because at first yesterday's morning training session followed the usual game plan. She lifted water from a bucket and unraveled it into a spinning airborne river that coiled around her body. A simple dance with water, silly and sentimental, as she considered her first strike. Then she called _heads up! _to Bolin and punched bursts of water his way. He leaped back from the shots and returned an earth disk. Korra danced around it, lighter on her feet than usual. Her spin quickened as she prepared another volley of water to launch—

There was an urgent shaking at her shoulders, the feeling of someone's hand gripping hers, and Bolin leaning over her with his heart in his eyes. _Are you okay? Korra?_

_Hmm? Yeah, I think so . . . did I take a head shot? _

_You passed out_, Mako said. Only then did she realize the firebender was also beside her. He was the one holding her hand, though he let go quickly when her fingers flexed.

The two brothers help her sit up on the practice room floor. _What do you mean, I passed out?_

Bolin gestured wildly with his hands as if this was supposed to help paint a clearer flashback. _You were about to make a move at me when you just—bam! Fell straight forward on your face. _

_You've only been out a few minutes, _Mako explained. _Are you feeling sick? _

She _was _sick, this time for showing such weakness before her teammates and especially before _Mako_. Avatars are supposed to be nothing but physical manifestations of strength and courage and punching the world's problems away. Korra is allowed to be a master bender, a master _pro_-bender even, but she is not allowed to be weak in anything because that is not what the world needs.

The young Avatar pushed both boys away. _I'm fine. Let's just keep going. _

But Bolin was insistent and refused to let them keep training. _Go home and get some rest_, he suggested. Mako's shoulders slumped. He agreed halfheartedly. Korra knew she was disappointing him because this would put them behind on their training schedule and at a disadvantage in the next match. She wanted to apologize, but to be sorry for something is again to show weakness. Per the sum of her life's training, she is not supposed to be human and mortal but something above that. And she intends to be.

If only she could get a good night's rest and get back to her usual tough self.

Back on Air Temple Island in the present time, Korra rubs her eyes again. "How's the tea?" she asks Pema.

The brown-haired air acolyte grins at the young Avatar. "All ready. Anything interesting been going on these _sleepless _nights?"

Korra snatches the cup more roughly than necessary. Can't she get a break? Sipping on the drink that should hopefully be a sleeping aid, she wanders back to her room. Her heart is acting normally this morning, thankfully. She flops on her bed and tugs the covers up to her chin. Sunlight slants through the windows, but she doesn't mind the bright daylight as long as she gets sleep at last . . .

"Korra? Are you in here?" Ikki sneaks in and props her elbows against the bed. She rests her chin on her linked fingers. "Jinora thinks you were off seeing some _boy_. She thinks it's that tall dreamy firebender. Is that why you weren't sleeping? Did you sneak off?"

The Avatar smothers her face with the pillow. "I wasn't sleeping because _I wasn't sleeping_," she growls into the fabric. Does no one believe that she's actually suffering from some serious insomnia? "Listen, please, Ikki . . . I'm really tired. Can we talk about this later?"

The little airbender's lip bottom pokes out in a pout. "Fine," she grumbles, "but that's a promise. I wanna hear the whole story!" She skips out, and Korra is left wondering whether she should just improvise a story to get everyone off her back since they won't believe the truth. But she'll deal with that after she gets some nice, warm, cozy rest as the herbal tea lulls her off to sleep . . .

She wakes up screaming, writhing, every nerve ending set on fire. Her forehead feels like it's just cracked open with white-hot agony.

"_Korra!" _

People run into the room and there are suddenly many figures surrounding the bed, Tenzin and Pema and Jinora and Ikki and she doesn't even know who else, but she just needs this pain to _stop_, she's twisting around and the bedcovers are strangling her, and the pain is blinding, and she's clutching her head shrieking and she can't breathe because something heavy is crushing her chest—

She's knocked into blackness, and the next thing Korra knows she's waking up slowly in a very white room that's nothing at all like her own on Air Temple Island. One side of her cot is pressed against the wall. On the other side are other cots lined up beside her own, a whole long row of ten beds or so. She guesses this must be some hospital wing in Republic City. The raw tortured pain and her screaming probably had Tenzin rushing her to this place. Now all she feels is dull throbbing everywhere and an odd sensation of sedation.

Korra is about to fall back on her covers when she realizes there is someone keeping her company in the adjacent cot to the right. She can barely make out the person beneath the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck, under the cuts on his face and the ugly black bruise leaking across his forehead. His sleazy smirk, even in sleep, gives his identity away. No, not in sleep. That bastard is also just now stirring into consciousness, his eyelids squeezing together just before they flutter open.

She lies back quickly and covers her face. No way is she getting into a scuffle when she feels so sick already. Korra slowly breathes into the calming darkness, trying to stay quiet. Somewhere far off, footsteps alert her to someone coming over to check up on them.

"How are you feeling?" a soft voice asks, probably a nurse.

"Fucked up," Tahno admits. "Do I get to keep all my limbs?"

"You'll be fine in the long run. That's a miracle given your accident. We'll have to keep you here another few hours, though. We may need to apply a cast to your arm—"

"A cast? No, listen, you don't understand. I have a _match_ in a few days. I'm a waterbender. I _need _both arms." His voice is tight, angry, and beneath the covers Korra smirks. It looks like an automatic knockout for the Wolfbats if their captain can't play. She could kiss whichever kind spirit set up this _accident _of Tahno's.

"I'm sorry," the nurse says, "but I promise we're doing all we can."

"I can't believe it. A car crash. I've never fallen asleep at the wheel."

Shocking, actually. Given that he probably does nothing but party all day and night (when he's not training to take down the competition), Korra is surprised this is the first time he's gotten into trouble of this kind. Well, he must get into all _other _kinds of problems to compensate.

"And you, Korra?" The nurse tugs the blanket off her face, leaving the young Avatar blinking in the sudden light. "How are you feeling?"

Tahno rolls his head to the left so he's looking at her. Now she notices the dark circles beneath his eyes (sleepless nights from wild parties?). His cheek presses into the pillow as the corners of his mouth crawl up into its usual dirty smirk. "Well, this is pathetic. Looks like the Uhvatar can't stay away from me even here."

Korra's fists tighten. She tries, very hard, to remember why she can't punch his face even though that's exactly when his smug expression is begging for. "I think I'm fine now," she says, sitting up. The dull throbbing remains, especially in a smear of pain across her forehead. "Can I go?"

Before the nurse can react, Korra discharges herself by standing up in her hospital gown—and topples right over on the ground because her legs won't hold her steady. She hits the floor hard on her hands and knees. Somewhere above she hears Tahno inhale sharply. Tears prick into Korra's eyes. Such intensity of weakness is not what she expected.

"You're staying a few hours, too," the nurse instructs as she helps the young Avatar back into bed. "And no more getting up, do you understand? You're not ready to walk yet. I'll call your family to let them know you're awake and doing well. Then I'll bring you some lunch."

As the nurse goes, Korra ducks under the covers again. This is fortunate because it means she doesn't have to see Tahno's face when he says, "Looks like we're stuck together, sweetheart."

Her forehead throbs just as the Wolfbat captain grunts from somewhere beyond the veil. And as she lies there, a very strange thing occurs to her slowly. How funny is it that her unfounded torment and his car accident came in such close proximity? How the placement of his bruises seems to overlap with the worst of her dull aches, like the one on his head? How she feels the very distant pressure of fabric against her left cheek even though her own is touching only cool, still air?

Nothing but delusions from her illness, she's certain. But regardless, Korra lies in the dark beneath the sheets and wonders at how mysteriously coincidental her odd life can sometimes be.

_A/N: Good idea? Bad idea? Now is the time to let me know if you'd like me to continue this single story arc for all twelve installments of my "Twelve Days of Tahnorra" series. _


	2. Snow

_A/N: In case you haven't caught on, dialogue spoken in the past is italicized and dialogue spoken in the present is normally written in quotation marks. Do you guys think the content of this chapter is still fine for T, or should I up the rating to M if some of these themes will become more prevalent later on?_

This, Korra decides as she lies awake once again in bed on Air Temple Island, is officially the worst night of her life.

Landing in the hospital the previous night was bad enough, but at least she only spent until late afternoon trapped on her cot by the fussy nurse before her official discharge. And, thankfully, most of that hospital time was (finally) spent in sleep. The nurse returned shortly after Tahno taunted Korra with _looks like we're stuck together, sweetheart_ to inject the Wolfbat with a shot of some sedative.

_To see if we can fix you up and let you go without a cast,_ the nurse explained as she eased a needle into his upper arm. Really, it was probably to shut him up. Korra felt an odd prick and stinging just below the shoulder, almost as if the needle were pinching her own skin and not her rival's. But before she could dote on this for too long, she was out cold.

When Tenzin picked her up later in the day, he brought her straight back to Air Temple Island and warned her to take it easy per doctor's orders. The airbending kids were put in charge of babysitting the Avatar. She grinned and nodded along as Tenzin instructed Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo to watch her closely. This arrangement suited Korra just fine.

_I promise I'll get you guys candy bars on the way back, _she promised a group of wide-eyed children whose parents rarely ever brought processed sugar into the house.

Jinora alone seemed reluctant. The other two tugged on her sleeves, pleading and promising to take all the blame if they got caught. Korra smirked. She knew just how to convince the eldest child: _I wouldn't mind stopping by the book store, too, and picking up some of those science-fiction and fantasy stories Tenzin doesn't want you reading._

This was all Korra needed to secure the kids' permission to swim out across the bay under the evening lights. The water tonight was like ice, so cold it hurt. This is why she swam alone instead of on Naga's back, a bubble of air sealed around her head and the contact of skin-on-water. It threw her back to a childhood she would never admit she missed, back to long dark nights under the wide and open polar sky. Republic City certainly had more of just about everything to offer, more of even the simplest things like color.

For example, in a city of narrow streets with ten thousand dusty cars, their red lights brighter than the sunset burned against the horizon, Korra could find sights like a man's black silhouette against a gold sunset as he fed some birds. He was just a homeless paraplegic tossing arcs of old brown bread into the shimmering air, and her life crossed with that of this complete stranger a few days ago. For some reason, his image stuck with her. It happened while she walking on the way home from an evening training session with Mako and Bolin. Korra noticed the man in his alley and paused across the street. She watched him lean low in his wheelchair to gather more bread from a paper bag and throw it again to the flutter of backlit lizard crow wings. Without saying anything or interfering, she watched him until the sun hid behind the city's shining buildings. When she left, the wheelchair man was looking at his empty bag and sitting at the heart of a pigeon flock, the birds' bodies darkened to blue shadows. She left the man gazing into the bag as if looking back on the road that had brought him to this place. The gaze of a poor man seeking answers in the dust.

In the south, it's rare to get all that color at once: black and gold and brown and all that wild bread and bird motion. Things are calmer there, and everything seems to be a shade of blue or white: the sky, the snow, the distant mountains, the sea, her bed, the covers, even every fragment of clothing worn to festivities or war. Which is not to say any of it's boring. Every one of even Korra's outfits had ten different shades of blue: sky blue, aqua blue, sea blue, navy blue—name a blue, it was there. Subtle differences, for sure, but each a fresh level of complexity to a seemingly uniform color. If nothing else, life in the south taught the Avatar to search for subtleties in all things.

Doesn't mean she couldn't enjoy the city's firelight pulsing on her skin.

Korra met the Fire Ferret brothers at their apartment in the pro-bending arena. They'd arranged this meeting a while ago, and no way were a few nights of troubled sleep going to keep her from accompanying them to a nightclub in the city. She'd bought fancy clothes for the evening and left them here so Tenzin wouldn't raise a fuss. While the boys dressed themselves, Korra slipped into the bathroom to put on a blue dress the color of moonlight on water. Strangely feeling somewhat tipsy, she twirled before the mirror and marveled at how the fabric rippled up her body. In this lonely room, she let herself be just a girl instead of the Avatar. She sighed, grinning at her reflection. Perhaps even Mako might be impressed . . .

_Korraaaaaaaa, _Bolin called through the door. _Come on, hurry up_.

_I'm coming, geez!_

'_Kaaaaaaaay. It's just that Asami's already here. We're all waiting on you._

A razor edge of reality cut through Korra's daydreams. Midway through a spin, she froze. What the hell was she doing, dancing around like some stupid kid? Silly and forgettable, that's all she could ever come off as with these moves. Everything about her screaming _childish_: Korra's ponytails and her sleeveless shirts, her smirks and her burps. Miss Sato, on the other hand, was nothing but class and a woman's beauty. With her rich black hair, eyes like sharp green emeralds, her body tall and lush—she was nothing but gorgeous and sexy. The things, Korra realized as she stepped out into the main room, a tough and buff pro-bender like herself could never hope to be.

Mako was standing beside Asami, his arm tucked around her waist. The firebender's gaze followed Korra as she crossed the room to where Bolin and Pabu were perfecting some trick involving balancing treats on the fire ferret's nose. Mako's careful glance did not escape the young Avatar. She grinned secretly to herself.

_All right. _Korra told the earthbender, who was squatting beside his pet. _Ready!_

Bolin glanced up and just _stared_. He blinked over and over, mouth open as if wanting to say something profound. There was awe in his eyes, admiration, something that stirred a warm feeling in her belly against her wishes. _You look . . . I . . . Korra . . ._

Words were working against him, but his wide eyes and grin warmed her to her bones. The sense of _tipsy _washed over her more strongly now. Drunk off Bolin's presence? But she doesn't like him like that. Her affection is reserved for Mako, the boy standing with the Sato girl by the door . . .

_Woah, Korra. _Bolin steadied her, helped the Avatar sit on the floor without toppling over again. Her hands fisted against his shirt. Her chest hurt, tight, lungs seizing. Loud, erratic heartbeat. Eyes zoned in on his mouth, lips, she _needed_ something from him. She didn't know how to ask. Bolin called Mako. They leaned Korra back against the floor, held her down while Asami ran to call Tenzin about the Avatar's latest fit or seizure. As for the young waterbender, she looked between the brothers and didn't care whose mouth she was allowed to pry open with the dark line of her own. She needed the wet heat of their kisses. Already, she could feel suction against her mouth. The distant, faint, tantalizing flick and glide of a tongue. Sudden fire in a bundle of nerves between her legs, feeding some physical hunger. A dizzying, clawing need and the tightness of her body—

That ended. Suddenly.

Her voice pitched into a gasp. She distantly remembered that Mako and Bolin were still beside her. But really, she didn't care. Couldn't process anything but the burn of pleasure and an overwhelming need to lie unmoving in exhaustion. Bolin yelped, and it was only then that Korra realized her nails were digging into his arm and into Mako's. The firebender, stoic as always, bit his lip and said nothing.

This was around the time when a very frazzled, very livid, very concerned Tenzin arrived to drag Korra home for the second time that day.

Hours later, this is how she has ended up lying awake once again in bed on Air Temple Island deciding this was officially the worst night of her life.

For one, she'd make a complete idiot out of herself in front of not only Bolin and Asami but _Mako_. Plus, Tenzin took away her moonlight dress. Even though he didn't openly say it, she knew he thought it made her look like a common slut with its low v-cut. And the airbending kids were going to be pissed at her in the morning since she hadn't exactly gotten them chocolate or books, even though they'd kept their end of the bargain.

Oh. And on top of _all_ of that, she couldn't sleep.

Again.

Korra lies in bed breathing at the ceiling, and suddenly she feels an odd urge to use the bathroom. She gets up and stumbles over, but by the time she gets there she doesn't even really need to pee. So instead she leans against the sink to hold herself steady and stares into the mirror. She sees a girl of seventeen years with dreams in her eyes and some strange sickness.

"What's going on with you, huh?" Korra asks her reflection. "Can't you control yourself?"

There's suddenly a feeling of something cold flowing over her hands. She looks down to make sure the faucet's off. It is. But somehow, impossibly, it feels like she's just dipped her hands into water and is holding them flat and open beneath a running current of icy water.

Korra steps back, gasping. "What on earth . . ." she begins, but suddenly there is _pain. _Something hot bursts against her left wrist, mixing with the frost of water still on her hands. Someone's screaming, a high-pitched shriek, not stopping to breathe. Korra understands this scream belongs to her. She hits the bathroom walls and runs out, clutching her wrist. If she lets go, her veins might rip out of her body and bleed until she dies even though there's no visible wound on her skin. There's a window in her room. A window outside. She throws it open and leaps out, catching herself on a column of earth. Outside. Cold air. Wet, cold flakes flutter against on her face. Snowflakes? Korra falls against the ground, crying, mouth against the dirt. Her wrist stings like there's a knife under her skin. She's howling, needs it to stop, please, _spirits_, just let it _end_—

And it does. It ends with a distant sense of cool water eased over her wrist and then nothing. No pain. When Korra rolls onto her back and examines her arm, she sees nothing but unmarked skin.

Okay. Now she's _officially _going crazy.

She needs to get out of here for a few hours. Go swimming out in the bay again and just make sure she makes it back before Tenzin comes to get her for morning mediation. This time, Korra takes Naga with her. Even waterbenders can drown when they're unconscious. Given her recent track record, she's not taking any chances.

For a while the polar bear dog just paddles around with the Avatar resting on her back. Korra looks up at the sky, all clouds and constellations, and marvels at small flakes floating down slowly. The unexpected snow comes evenly, slowly, full of late autumn calm. In the south, her waterbending sifu had much wisdom to share about snow and what people could learn from it.

_Snow doesn't care who it lands on, _Katara once said as she and Korra watched small children chase each other with snowballs in the south. Then Katara caught one lone snowflake on her fingertip. _And do you know what else? _She smiled as a sister pelted her brother across the shoulder with a fat, tough snowball. _One snowflake alone is so fragile, but look at how strong they become when they stick together. _

Tonight, Korra's breath is fog against the cold night. This is evening the way she likes it, just the moon and snow and clouds and stars sandwiched between sea and sky.

Suddenly, she feels Naga tense. Korra rolls over to scratch her friend's head. "What is it girl?" The polar bear dog growls, her muzzle high and dripping above the water. Korra looks up. A hundred meters away, at most, a small yacht is bobbing in the bay. Now both girls are tense, but . . . this is interesting. A sailor in trouble? Equalists? The Avatar's breath is hot mist as she grits her teeth. "Let's go check it out," she suggests warily. Already, her hands are reaching out for water.

Naga swims up to the boat. Korra balances on the polar bear dog's back. The plan is simple: leap, grab railing, pull up, look around. Just in case, protective water circles her hands. Whispers against her palm. Kisses her fingers. Korra leaps up and grabs the railing. A quick current of water follows her up. She kicks over the rail and lands on the deck, arms extended, ready to fight if it's some kind of trouble—

"Oh. _Oh_. Why, Uhvatar, you must be _so _taken to pursue me all the way out here."

The water goes slack in Korra's grip and splashes on the deck. She stares at Tahno reclining in a beach chair, halfway through the gesture of pouring hot tea into a small white cup. He's wrapped up in a thick blue towel, but the edges of long sleeves and pant legs suggest he's clothed beneath. The Wolfbat sets the teapot back down on the deck and blows steam off the surface of the tea. His mouth curls into that usual smirk.

"Ugh, it's just _you_," Korra snaps. She makes a special effort to sound as disgusted as possible. "I saw a boat and thought it was abandoned. Or that someone needed help."

He flips his hair in a totally unnecessary gesture. "Maybe I could use some help. Are you here to offer private lessons of your own?" He quirks an eyebrow and blows on his cup again. "It's my personal ship. No one would bother us."

She does a one-eighty spin and throws up her hands before she throws up dinner from staring at his stupid face. "I'm out. Have fun on your yacht."

"As you wish. Go pretend you can airbend back on your island. I'm sure you're making great progress. Soon you can pawn your services as an air conditioner."

_Donotpunchhisface youwillbedisqualified KorrastopKorrastop thinkofMakoKORRASTOP. _This sequence of thoughts keeps her fists locked on the railing and from turning around.

"Aren't you disappointed they managed to fix my arm?" he calls. "Now you can't just have a cop-out victory. Maybe you should try breaking it again. You might get luckier than my windshield."

Ignoring that idiot is best. Instead, she sets her foot on the lower rail and glances down to where Naga is waiting, tail wagging. Korra waves and prepares to jump down when, suddenly, there is a sharp burning on her tongue.

"Ouch," she gasps, except she realizes she is not the only one who spoke.

Korra turns around and sees Tahno setting down his teacup. His tongue is sticking out, and he's muttering something about the _damn hot tea_. He bends some water from over the railing and eases it onto his tongue. As the water touches his tongue, she feels a calm cooling sensation pass over her own. Her jaw slackens. Impossible.

Korra stares.

Tahno stares back.

"See something you like?" he teases, but right now she could care less about his provocations. All Korra can think of is this: lifting her right hand and forming a fist.

"Oh, are you going to use that?" Tahno taunts.

She is, but not on him. Not directly, anyway. Korra's fist tightens, and she punches herself in the left forearm as hard as she possibly can. And when Tahno shrieks and grabs his left arm, grabs it in the _exact same place_ she just punched herself, the Avatar realizes she stands teetering on the verge of a realization that is, as far as she can imagine, unimaginable.

_A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please at least let me know someone is reading this. My _Fire and Ice_ fans are literally sending me batches of frantic PMs requesting updates on that story, but I will stick with this piece if you guys like it. If not, I have over a dozen panicky messages to appease regarding my other story. Help me decide what I should do, please!_

_Edit: Okay, so, I will be continuing this twelve-chapter story beginning on December 20 and through December 31. That way, I won't fail my final exam on December 19 in the evening but will still complete this mini-saga. XD Sounds good to everyone? See you in a few days!_


	3. Dedicate

_A/N: *Waves* Greetings, everyone! I decided to take a quick break from studying for my final exam that's tomorrow to bring you a new chapter (especially since you amazing people left so much feedback on the previous chapter)! Enjoy, and please leave your thoughts at the end. ^_^_

This is Avatar Korra: 809 in a line of ordinary men and women gifted at birth with a fragment of the spirit of the earth. She is courageous and strong. A fierce rival in pro-bending. An unstoppable force against the Equalist menace. Whether on ground, at sea, or in the air, no one can match her. She has more than speed, more than skill, but that plucky combination of boldness and power that makes her the world's go-to girl for peacekeeping. One day, she will be the best Avatar there has ever been and ever shall be. The one they will call when the good guys absolutely, undeniably, have to win.

And she knows it.

Certain perks come along with being the Avatar. Not only can she manipulate all four elements (plus the Avatar State—that's serious firepower), but she even gets her own compound down in the Southern Water Tribe. Sure, sometimes she felt locked up there like a prisoner, but at least she got to boss around a bunch of White Lotus losers who had to suck it up and deal with it.

She is used to having things go the way she wants.

As the Avatar, she also has a fine sense of judging what is and is not possible in life. This moment, the one in which she punched her own arm and that Wolfbat responded as if she had punched him instead, is impossible. It simply can't happen.

This is what Korra tells her fist, which for now remains glued to the skin of her forearm: "Nope. Sorry, not happening." As if this, somehow, is supposed to stop Tahno from rubbing his arm and groaning.

"This is just not my night," he grumbles. "First a burn from the tea, now some nerves are acting up . . ."

"Stop it," Korra snaps.

His gaze flicks from his arm to her face. "Excuse me?"

"Stop . . . your arm . . . you're fine, okay!"

His eyebrows disappear into his hair. "Did you hear me say I wasn't?"

"Okay," Korra says, taking a step back. "Good." She turns around, leans against the railing, and cycles cold night air into her lungs and out. See? Nothing to worry about. Tahno was just being stupid as always . . .

But she has to make certain.

Korra turns back and grabs Tahno's wrist. His mouth tightens into a thin line. "Hands. Off," he warns.

"Punch me."

"What?"

"_Punch me_," Korra insists.

Tahno blinks. He stares as if trying to understanding what she's offering. Then his smirk widens and he chuckles. "If you're going to try to disqualify me, you'll have to be a little more subtle—"

"Fine, I'll do it myself!" she says, her voice rising. Letting go, she steps back and holds out an open palm. Tahno stands quickly. The thick blanket pools at his feet, revealing long-sleeved blue pajamas flecked with a white pattern like snowflakes. He raises his hands, ready to fight. But Korra doesn't touch him. She slaps herself across the face hard enough to leave her jaw aching and a sharp red mark on her cheek.

"Did you feel that?" she asks, praying for him to call her crazy, but his hand is already at his cheek. He gasps, teeth clenched, and Korra can't breathe. She can't even sit down or blink. She's frozen at the brink of a great gathering darkness into which she can only gaze blankly without comprehension. Her throat makes a small choked noise, one for a moment she doesn't realize came from her own lungs.

Tahno rubs his cheek. "Is this some cheap Uhvatar trick?" he asks. Anger has sprung into his tight voice.

Korra digs her fingernails into her shoulder and watches Tahno's hand leap there to soothe a wound that's on _her_ skin, not _his_. _Punch me!_ she orders, and when he doesn't, she punches her own arm again just to see him grab his own. Now her rival is backing away, head shaking. "Have you been out drinking? You're acting drunk. Saying crazy things," he accuses. Of course he'd say that. He's pretending to not understand. Or maybe he's idiot enough to really not get it.

Without understanding how she moved, without even intending to grab the collar of his pajamas, Korra finds herself lifting him off the ground with one hand. Her clenched fist stops an inch from Tahno's nose. "What. Did. You. _Do?!_" she shrieks. Disqualification or not, she will break his face if he doesn't fix this _now_.

He claws at her hand. He's choking. Korra wouldn't care about this except, suddenly, she's choking too. She drops him into a sad pile on the ground, panting. The Wolfbat touches his throat to check for bruising. His gaze is all fire as it leaps to her face. "That's it, Uhvatar. Your team is out—"

"Forget the matches!" She squats and grabs his collar again, dragging him closer. This time he grabs her wrists to keep her from choking him. Not that she would again. She likes breathing, thank you. "How did you do this? This . . . thing. Bond. I don't even know."

"How did _I _do this?You're the one who's trespassing on _my _ship, bothering me when I'm only trying to enjoy a peaceful evening alone—"

The wooden floorboards suddenly seem soft under Korra's feet. The already dark evening is filling with thick blackness that oozes into her lungs. Her vision swims. "I felt you burn your tongue on the tea," she says. "You can feel my punches. You fell asleep while driving. I woke up feeling like I was in pain all over. Like I'd been in _car crash_."

His eyes are starting to widen. Astonished, or afraid. "You're proposing . . . what, exactly?" His hands, which hold on to Korra's wrists, are trembling.

She takes a deep breath to try shaking off her stupor. "Obviously, _you _did something to link us somehow," she says, trying to be logical. She lets go of his collar. Tahno scrambles backwards. He grabs the blanket and holds it up as if this thin wall of fabric will somehow shield him from the truth.

"Uhvatar, what you're suggesting is impossible."

"Tahno, you stupid _fuck_." She burns a curtain of fire between them. It's not enough to calm her anger. She blasts flames at his blanket. Bright tendrils of yellow and orange light eat away at blue fabric as it catches fire. Tahno throws it away and summons water to circle around his waist, probably just in case she tries to blast him with fire again. But she doesn't. Of course not. Hurting him would only be hurting herself.

"I know it seems impossible," she yells. "You think I didn't figure that out five minutes ago? You . . . _ugh!_"

She pushes up to her feet and stands at the railing. Wind pushes a few strands of hair into her eyes, cutting her vision to slits. She tucks it out of the way and looks out across the bay without seeing either it or the moon floating up through the dark waters of the night. "Whatever you did, _fix _it." As if such small words could heal anything.

Korra tries to imagine Katara or Tenzin beside her offering words of wisdom. _Calm down_, they'd say. _Think. _So she leans her crossed forearms on the railing and tries to clear her mind by focusing on other things, just for a moment. To one side of the ship, the shimmering city is all golden lights in the darkness. The water is so still tonight that the city reflected in the bay seems an almost perfect replica. After a few minutes, Korra hears footsteps behind her. A rustle of sleeves lets her know Tahno is standing beside her. "I think it's just coincidence. It has to be," he says. The small, distant quality of his voice suggests he still doesn't believe it. Or, perhaps, there is something of desperation.

"You need more proof? You were with some woman earlier tonight. You know, _with _some woman," Korra says without moving. She doesn't look at him until she feels Tahno's eyes on the profile of her face. "I felt this weird pleasure sensation. And kissing." Because only now does she understand the clawing need that had Mako and Bolin pinning her to the floor in their apartment. Her sudden need for the wet heat of their mouths and bodies. It wasn't her physical need she was feeling but that of the Wolfbat whose eyes are wide, so wide and frightened. Like a small child about to leave the comfort of home and step into a black unknown chasm for the first time in his life.

Korra wonders about the knife under her skin in the bathroom, but she doesn't ask about that. There are some questions you don't ask, not when you don't really want to know the answer. Especially since Tahno seems to be taking great care to ensure those long pajama sleeve almost completely cover his hands except for the very fingertips.

"If you're fucking with me right now, _Uh_vatar, with some trick that's really not funny—"

She digs her fingernails into her palms hard enough to draw blood. It's the only way to stop her from trying to burn him again. He gasps. Of course: Tahno felt the pain, too.

"I'm not, okay?" she cries. "Why would I want to have anything to do with a disgusting jerk like you? If it were up to me, I'd be home right now sleeping. Got it? So just _stop_ it and believe me, okay?"

There is silence, nothing but wind on water. "So . . . if this is real and you're _not _messing with me, what do we do now?" he asks. He leans in very close, as if somehow this physical proximity might substitute for their spiritual one and solve all their problems.

Korra gathers her arms in close and leans out on the railing. "I don't know." And for the first time in her life, she really doesn't. Just breathing and not fainting from the unbearable shock of this discovery is all she can manage at the moment. For a girl who's always been in control, that sense is quickly slipping from her hands like water trickling through the fingers of a nonbender.

"I think we need to dedicate ourselves to finding a way out of this mess," Tahno suggests, apparently master of the obvious. "We can start by setting some rules."

"Yeah, so you stop sleeping around while I'm trying to have a night out with my friends," Korra snaps.

"Oh." Tahno's smirk is back. "Which brother have you been kissing?"

The spark returns to her voice. She's not taking this. "Is there a girl left in the city you haven't slept with?"

"At least one," he says. "But of course, I have standards."

She turns her body so she's properly facing him. While he honestly deserved to be smacked for his banter, she could use a distraction. "Yeah," she says, leaning her elbows back on the railing. "The Avatar's way out of your league."

His mouth is laughing. "I think you're confused, sweetheart. I wouldn't touch you if you threw your body at me."

Of course. His girls are like Asami, ones with black and generous hair with thick curls circling their faces and pouring down their shoulders. The kinds of girls whose faces are makeup and not skin. The ones who capture boys' hearts, like that of Mako . . .

Mako and her other friends. Tenzin, and Lin. How is she going to tell them about this bond with Tahno? And Amon? If he finds out and captures Tahno, that's the ultimate bait against the city. Or maybe the Equalist leader will just kill the Wolfbat. What would happen to their bond then?

"Okay. Let's just set some rules and get out of here," Korra says. "I need a drink."

"Some tea?"

"What?"

"Tea." Tahno gestures at the still-steaming teapot. "Tea is a drink."

Now she's really laughing, as if this is the funniest thing she's heard all day. Or maybe that's what happens in the midst of unendurable fear: you find everything funny as you search for the light in small things. A sense of humor can be great armor against the things that would cause you pain. "You, of all people, should know what I mean," she says.

"Here's a rule," Tahno says. "We go to sleep at three in the morning, and I don't want to see you awake before noon."

Well. This would explain the sleepless evenings. "No way," Korra says. "I'm hitting the hay midnight at the latest. I've got airbending lessons every morning at the crack of dawn."

"The good parties don't start till past midnight."

"Then looks like you're going to have to keep your pants on for a few weeks," she says. "Just until we get this sorted out."

He's sidled a bit closer to her along the railing. Normally she would mind, but somehow she doesn't feel like he's going to really bother her. "And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" he asks.

Korra looks out across the bay at the golden tint filtering across the glowing night water. She might seriously have to start working on her airbending again. The quicker she learns, the faster she'll have a change to enter the Avatar State and talk to the spirits. Maybe they could help her work this out. Maybe they're even the reason behind it.

"I'll figure something out," she says. "Just as long as you don't get me killed in the meantime."

They stand there leaning out across the water, wind rippling across them both. What neither of them will confess, though Korra is certain they're both thinking it, is that she's the one more likely to get in trouble in the next few weeks. Especially if Tahno keeps doing _Tahno _things, like maybe getting himself drunk while she's facing Amon. They're going to have to discuss his habits. They've probably got a whole lot to talk about since their individual problems are now no longer entirely their own.

"Here." He takes out a pen that he probably uses for autographs (why does he keep one even in his pajamas?) and writes something on her arm. She wonders if he can feel the pressure of the pen tip against his own skin, too. "That's my address. It's the penthouse. Just in case."

She returns the favor. "Air Temple Island. Duh."

"Hopefully we won't need it."

Korra nods. "Hopefully." A beat. "I'm going back to the island," she adds. "It's going to be morning soon. I'll be missed at training."

He shrugs and returns to his chair. "Suit yourself." He sips on the tea. Korra finds that if she focuses hard enough, she can almost detect its flavor. Jasmine? Or maybe ginseng . . .

"Go for it," Tahno says.

She blinks. "Huh?"

He's holding up the teapot. "Go for some tea. You're pretty obviously staring at it. I think I have some more cups somewhere."

Now it's her turn to smirk. "I'm a big girl." She uses waterbending to coax some tea out of the pot. "I can bend my own drinks and everything." She takes a sip. "Is this spiked?"

"You have no faith in me whatsoever. Can a man not enjoy plain _tea_?"

She leans back against the railing and bends some more tea into her mouth. Some men, maybe. But Tahno's not your usual kind of guy.

He sighs. "Besides, you'd feel it. Since I've been drinking it myself for a while. Looks like that's how this bond this is going to work out. We can't hide anything from each other now."

And the faster _that's _no longer an issue, the better. She doesn't need that jerk getting a glimpse into her private business, even if it's just physical stuff. As Korra sips her tea and gazes out at the city, she hopes they can, indeed, dedicate themselves to staying safe and out of danger at least for the next few days while this gets sorted out.

Though with a guy like Tahno, she suspects she's in for a whole hell lot of trouble.

_A/N: That was mostly setup for the next chapter, which will be quite long. Do you guys want me to stick to Korra's point of view, or do you also want to see some scenes from Tahno's perspective?_


	4. Renewal

_A/N: Okay, so . . . I decided to risk writing a chapter from Tahno's perspective. This is either an excellent or awful idea—I'll let you all be the judge of that. Consider it my own little "renewal" as a writer: trying out a fresh point of view for this mini-series. Warning: this is a fairly dark chapter. Take a deep steadying breath before you read on. _

When Tahno brings home women collected at bars, or his fangirls (read: also his women), or Shaozu and Ming (yes, he can have _just _friends), he stops outside the front door and invites them inside with this lie: _welcome to my house. _

This is a lie because the penthouse where the Wolfbat has broken 324 virgins is not _his _house at all. It belongs to the creature that lives behind a platinum door that sits halfway down the longest corridor running the length of the apartment. This door is painted pitch black, a shade of darkness that exactly counteracts the hopeful intensity of white tunnel light experienced by a dying person clinging to life. Every day when Tahno rolls out of bed to go out for the day, he walks past the door. And every day when Tahno returns from a long day of drinking, partying, or otherwise squandering away his life, he walks past the door again.

Behind the platinum door lives nothing more or less than the Wolfbat's blackest nightmare.

He tries not to think about that. What he thinks about instead is a small notepad with a blue leather cover that sits in the top drawer of the nightstand beside his bed. It contains one thing only: 891 names listed in precise chronological order. Tahno keeps track of every woman he sleeps with. Beside each name he lists some basic features: hair color (easily changed), eye color (more permanent), favorite foods (a good clue), detailed fragments of her history (the past lasts forever, entirely impossible to rewrite), the status of her virginity (for personal pride). He keeps these notes because he has a very precise rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. For now, Tahno is quite certain he will never violate this law because it gives him something new to look forward to every day of his life.

Having something new to look forward to is essential. It helps him not think about the black door . . . and what lies beyond it.

Neither Shaozu nor Ming is entirely comfortable with their captain's strange habits, which extend beyond sleeping around. They try to convince him to just stick to hard drug use, but the standard drugs the two boys use are not nearly classy enough for Tahno. He is addicted to something entirely different: bloodbending his own body. He sometimes attempts to convince his two teammates to try it by describing the glory of the experience. Tahno then invites them to try with something like _you boys aren't cowards, are you? _but his companions always shake their heads and back off slowly. _Shame_, their captain thinks.

There are few experiences better than nearly stopping your own heart.

This is how his sessions always begin: with a drastic slowing of his heartrate. Tahno loves feeling the strain of muscle against his waterbending will on the rare nights when the full moon grants him this delicious privilege. When his precision of thought grows foggy and distant, he can forget that kisses are precious and should only be wasted on small children, or aging mothers, or women who love you. So what if he kisses every one of his women? He gathers precious information by kissing them exactly twice, no more and no less. Tahno catalogues every single kiss (the first to learn, the second to verify) in some physical memory of his mouth. He never forgets how a woman kisses because every one, every single one, is just a taste different. How their mouths connect. How her tongue flicks. How she bites (or doesn't bite) his lower lip. The Wolfbat captain is a man who is in absolutely perfect and unyielding control of his life. Always has been. Always shall be. He is entirely certain of this fact . . . until he walks by that black door. Twice a day when he passes inches away from the cold vertical sheet of metal the color of death, he remembers the real master of the house and of his own life.

In those moments, Tahno is afraid.

Sometimes in the early morning or evenings or even in the middle of daylight when his windows are all shuttered, he will sit against the wall directly opposite the door. He will sit and stare at the door and thinks of what lies beyond it. Tahno has only been inside once, and that was on the very first day when he purchased this penthouse after winning his first pro-bending championship three years ago. On that day, he laid out the contents of the room in neat and predetermined order. The bathtub against the right wall. The toilet and the sink against the left. One needle filled with a lethal dose of heroin. A single razor. Then he walked out and locked the door. Even though he always keeps the black key in his pant pocket, he has never returned to that room in three long years. This is because he knows the next time he walks inside, he will not come out alive. This is not a fear. It is simply fact.

The black door is Tahno's nightmare because it is his final escape, and there are nights when he considers taking it.

The most recent of these nights was a rare occasion when he went out to a bar with his friends and found that every woman there was already in his notepad. To go home with one of them would be to violate the _one woman, one use _law. He was forced to return home without company. That evening he lay awake in bed gazing up at the ceiling, almost entirely alone (thankfully he feels moisture everywhere around him, so he has some company). _Alone _is the state in which Tahno is most afraid to end up, which is why he perpetually surrounds himself with company. Because lying awake in his bed of blue sheets and white covers, his eyes are turned toward the ceiling but really his mind gazes beyond the black door. Tahno would rather be dead than alone for reasons from his past, but he_ definitely _doesn't want to think about the life he left behind before becoming a pro-bender. He would rather keep his eyes on the ceiling and try to stare through it right into the spirit world. That night, his heart makes one secret wish that he prays the spirits will hear and answer.

But why should they listen to a nobody like him?

The next day, the Wolfbat captain and his posse wind up at their favorite corner table at Narook's Seaweed Noodlery. This is entirely unplanned because Tahno's craving for Northern or South Water Tribe dishes isn't exactly the strongest (not his childhood recipes), but that day he suddenly felt a fiercely strong desire for a bowl of authentic noodles. He lounges between two of his favorite ladies, idiot girls who foolishly believe that stalking him will somehow properly win his heart instead of just a single night in bed and two kisses each. Tahno catalogued these as girls who kiss _hard_.He prefers it this way. Hard kisses move from the mouth, to the neck, and back to the mouth. They are accompanied by hands on his back, on his face, in his hair. There is always tongue and usually teeth. Sometimes hard kisses make his lower lip bleed. He doesn't mind this.

What Tahno does mind is the impudence of a fool novice pro-bender staring at him across the room. Her direct glare is a challenge, one he rises to meet.

This girl is different because she, unlike so many others, doesn't throw her body at him. She throws nothing at him but anger, and disgust, and the certain plucky spark that comes with being the Avatar. She doesn't accept his invitation for _private lessons_. She doesn't lie down and passively accept his overbearing cockiness. What the Avatar does do is cheat, just like him, and summon some (not so little) pet to fight her battle. Tahno glances back at the girl as he heads off with his gang. The Avatar herself.

He knows, he's _certain_, their paths will cross again.

Unfortunately, things start to get really out-of-sorts by the time he's out at a late-night party three nights later. He's been out at parties the previous three nights, too, and even though it's three in the morning he's usually never tired at this still-early hour. But this night he's trembling on the verge of exhaustion, his body weak and spent. Tahno wants to take a woman home after his long hours of dancing in the nightclub with hot yellow, orange, red light pulsing on his skin, but his body _begs _for sleep. He drags himself home alone and falls back on his pillow. Sheets form a warm cave around his body, but now he's livid. His body is a traitor tonight. Thankfully, the moon is on Tahno's side. The fullness of its pale light whispers through the bedroom curtains, and it is enough for him to bloodbend his heart into the comfort of nearly stopping. His addiction satisfied, he falls asleep as usual . . .

And jolts awake two hours later at precisely five in the morning once again straight at the crack of fucking dawn.

He's beyond angry. He tries to sleep but rest won't come to him no matter what he tries. The previous morning, he popped some sleeping pills that ought to have helped him get back to bed. But even the pills weren't strong enough. Tahno fell asleep for maybe a handful of minutes and woke up again feeling like someone had been roughly shaking him. This morning, he's had enough. He decides to go for a drive around the city to clear his mind. Setting neither a goal nor an hour of return, he drives and watches Satomobiles going the opposite way pass him on the road. Tahno drives fast as a matter of habit with his head thrown back, watching clouds swim by through the windshield. He only distantly feels dizziness sneaking up on him, only faintly tastes something like herbal tea on his tongue. The clouds swim by and the sun is bright, so bright, on the road and in his eyes. Tahno closes his eyes for just a single moment, not expecting to be ripped awake by his forehead smashing against the steering wheel as glass sprays across his head. His mouth momentarily opens with the red splash of a scream, but then he passes out and doesn't wake up until hours later in some hospital in the city. Neither does he expect to see the Avatar herself in the bed beside him, but this is irrelevant.

What matters is Tahno's unusual intensity of anger at himself for falling asleep behind the wheel of a moving car. He is supposed to always, _always_, be in absolute control.

He goes to a bar and fucks the first (virgin, he _does_ have his standards) woman he meets. Then he goes to his private yacht in the harbor and takes it out to the bay. Once out in clear water, he shuts down his engine and goes to the cabin downstairs where there's a toilet and a sink. He longs for something, and tonight this _something _is not sleep. He wants to _feel_. The moon is no longer full, no longer the perfect circle that grants him bloodbending. Instead, Tahno turns on the water in the sink. He opens his hands beneath the current. Water moves down his palm lines, kissing his skin. There is a razor on the sink counter. He rinses the blade under the water, too. Tahno keeps his eyes open for the next part. He wants to see, to feel, to _live_. When it's over he heals himself, rinses the razor again, goes up to the deck with a thick warm blanket and a pot of simple tea.

The Wolfbat captain does not expect to see the Avatar again that night, but sometimes life is filled with the unexpected.

He senses her arrival long before her feet hit the deck. From a far way off, Tahno feels the polar bear dog churning the water with her great paws as they approach the yacht. Water is his element, his everything, the force that ultimately keeps him from stepping through that black door. People are of course born with water already inside them. It is part of their blood, part of the architecture of every cell and system, a force that is always within each living being. Being able to bend water is a necessity for Tahno, more important than any other thing. He lives to waterbend; without that, there would be nothing left to tie him to this earth. He knows that water will always be his friend and companion even if everyone else leaves him. While water is around, he will never be _alone_. And thankfully, the Wolfbat believes, he never has to worry about his bending being taken away.

What he does have to worry about is this strange spirit connection to the Avatar, of all people. Great. Thanks a fucking lot, spirits.

Of course at first, Tahno doesn't believe this spunky girl when she tries to tell him about their physical bond. When she asks him to punch her, he's certain she wants to disqualify him from the matches (_so_ subtly, per her blunt Avatar style). But when she slaps herself across the face and he feels the force of impact clearly as stinging across his jaw, glimmers of truth hum through him. He accuses her of pulling a cheap Avatar trick as a way to hold off, moment by moment, the instant when he will have to accept the facts of the situation. But as they lean against the rail and winds moves across their now-linked lives, Tahno understands this isn't something he can just ignore away. Like the door, the Avatar is now a seemingly permanent part of his haunted life. At least, unlike the door and the fate beyond it, this spirit bond is not truly inevitable. Hopefully this poor unsuspecting girl will find a way to free herself from the curse that is the Wolfbat's life before some reason comes along that forces him beyond the black veil. _Though perhaps_, Tahno thinks as he and Avatar sip tea together, _this isn't necessarily a bad thing_. Perhaps the spirits even heard the one secret wish he made a few nights ago. His heart begged for renewal, a reason to live beyond just women and bloodbending and water. Perhaps, for once, the spirits decided to hear him out—though how this girl can play a role is for now entirely beyond him. One thing is for sure: she's entirely out of luck if she really thinks he's planning to stay out of parties or keep his pants on for her innocent little sake. Bond or not, he's a man who is in absolutely perfect and unyielding control of his life.

And he plans to keep it that way.

_A/N: Okay, okay, creepy part over (for now). Next chapter we'll get some fluffy/funny dialogue scenes with Tahno and Korra trying to figure out this bond situation (probably from Korra's point of view). If you guys are looking forward to seeing more of this mini-series, please leave your thoughts so I know I'm not just writing for my own personal entertainment and there's a point for me to keep going._

_P.S. This is your gift for surviving December 21, 2012—the end of the world per Mayan prophecy. _


	5. Cozy

_A/N: I'm back! And even though the "Twelve Days of Tahnorra" celebration is technically over, better late than never—yes? Well, for anyone curious about how this little story plays out, here's another chapter. Warning: I have a really, really bad flu and am feeling really, really sick, so this might not be my best chapter. But I did try._

Sitting cross-legged beneath the hot noon sun while her back itches and sweat drips down her face is its own challenge. If only it were the only one.

"You really think meditation is getting us anywhere?" Tahno asks for the tenth time in as many minutes. Like Korra, he's not too convinced the spirits are just going to drop an answer on their heads because she plays Proper Avatar for a few minutes.

"Do you hear that?" she asks through her teeth. "It's the sound of you not having a better plan, so shut up and let me do this!"

Though they've only got hours to go before the championship match of the pro-bending tournament where the Wolfbats face off against the Fire Ferrets, they're no closer to breaking their spirit link than that first night on the yacht. And that's despite hours spent in dusty libraries reading old scrolls that might offer hints. Reading. Korra's _favorite _thing.

"I _did_ have a plan," he says. "I still think you're being punished because you're a fucking awful Avatar. If you master airbending and learn to control the Avatar State, that might do it."

"And I still think that's a stupid idea," she snaps, by which she really means _there's no way I'll ever master airbending so stop reminding me_. Not that meditation is much of a solution, either. And so after another moment of staring into the blackness behind her eyelids, she drops her hands into her lap and opens her eyes at last.

They're sitting together by a small pond on Air Temple Island. Tahno watches her from his place on the opposite shore. He's still the same sleazy guy she met on that first night at Narook's with his eyeliner and styled hair. The only sign that something's up is the shadow of dark circles beneath his eyes. Thanks to him, her eyes look just as bad. That's what happens when two people can't agree on bedtimes or lifestyles. For example, Korra knows one thing for certain: even though she's never personally been in bed with a man, feeling Tahno sleep with at least one woman every night (or two at once, but she tries to forget that time) has taught her more than she cares to know about the act and its intricacies. Plus it all has to apparently happen around two in the morning (something about "the mood" being right). Tahno getting to bed at three and Tenzin waking her up at five, and this going on for about a week straight now, was going to kill her.

Across the pond, the Wolfbat sighs loudly. "I think it's time we tell your airbenders about this. Maybe they can help."

So far, they'd been keeping it a secret. For now, she planned to keep it that way. "Everyone else has enough problems of their own. We'll figure this out."

Two fat fish swim in the shallow pond waters, one black and one white. They're meant to represent the spirit fish that live in the Spirit Oasis that's far north. It's a place the young Avatar has always wanted to visit. One day, she will. Maybe even as soon as they take down Amon and the city's safe again.

For now, watching the fish flip their tails through the still pond water reminds Korra of yesterday night. It reminds her of a few things, actually. She and Tahno have had some interesting moments. A handful, actually.

* * *

Their first day at the library.

They're both reading books and scrolls about the different Avatars. Hundreds of biographies are stacked in uneven columns around their corner table. They've agreed to read potentially helpful snippets out loud. That means they've both stayed mostly silent. So many past lives and not a single fragment of useful information. No Avatar has been linked to another living being like this. Obviously, a problem.

Even more of a problem is being cooped up indoors with a person who bothers Korra to no end. It's not because of anything unusually annoying that he's doing, either. The way he flips book pages with a slight flick of the wrist grates on her nerves. The way his lips purse just slightly when he pauses on some fragment of text. Of course, he could be sitting still and doing nothing at all and she'd still be bothered by the very fact of his existence. It's what happens when you hate a person: everything about them annoys you. It's the opposite when you like a person: you overlook all their faults.

She looks for something to latch on to. "You're breathing loudly," she hisses even though Tahno's being perfectly silent.

"Your face is ruining the otherwise beautiful scenery," he says without glancing up.

When it comes to hating each other, neither misses a beat.

She resists a strong urge to flip him off by returning to an interesting passage about a face-stealer named Koh. As one of the oldest spirits, he possesses a great amount of knowledge of the spirit world and the beings that reside within it. She imagines what it must be like to stand before a creature like that in his home beneath a black and ancient tree. Her past life somehow did it. Brave Avatar Aang.

"This is interesting," Tahno says suddenly.

Korra looks up. He's flipping through pages so fragile from a book so old she's surprised they don't break apart on his fingertips.

"There's a passage here about two kinds of death. One's the kind where you go out young and as a hero. People remember your courage and sacrifice. It's the kind of death we all want. But then there's the kind where"—he traces a line of text as he reads directly—"_you just go to sleep and not wake up, slip out of your skin and pass into the world beyond_." He stares at the text. "And a generation later, no one remembers you at all."

"So how's that supposed to help?" she asks.

"It's not. It's just interesting."

Korra picks up the closest scroll and throws it at his head. It bounces off his forehead. She knows it hurt because she feels the pain ricochet in her own skull.

"Thanks for the false hope, loser," she snaps. Then she returns to reading about an Avatar called Kuruk. She reads and pretends she didn't momentarily flashback to the sharp cutting pain she felt on her wrist a few nights back.

Korra still won't ask Tahno about that night, but she does secretly hope he's doing better now.

* * *

Two days ago after a training session.

"I've got a great feeling about this match," Bolin says as he goes to a grab a towel off a chair. "Underdogs or not, we fantastic Fire Ferrets are going to take those Wolfbats down!"

His brother tugs off his helmet. "It's going to be a tough match, but I think you're right."

"For sure," Korra agrees, grinning. "I can't wait to take out Tahno!"

"Take me out where, _Uh_vatar? I have some bar suggestions if you're up for a drink."

Her eyes cut to the Wolfbat captain. He's leaning against the door in his uniform, presumably fresh out of a practice session with his teammates. In her mind, she's beginning to refine the portrait of his body. He's not simply a man who always tilts (although even now he can't simply stand against the door but has to lean so he's properly off-center). He's a man who always tilts for what she suspects is an underlying reason. It might be the same reason for which he wears fancy clothes: a charming outer layer can disguise the defects of the body. The extravagant hand gestures, the hair where every strand is accounted for, the neatly applied eyeliner, the elaborate facial expressions, his perpetual tilting—all of these things are distractions from more subtle things he doesn't want people to notice about himself.

"This is our training room. Get out," Mako growls.

"I'll deal with this," Korra says quickly. She drags Tahno out into the hall as Bolin begs _please don't hit him, we really stand a chance in the next round! _"I thought we weren't meeting to go back to the library until tonight," she hisses once they're safely out of earshot. No one, not even her friends, is going to hear about their problem.

"I know, but I overheard and thought you were inviting me out," he says smoothly. "I couldn't pass up that offer."

"You mean you were trying to cheat and listen in on our new tactics?" Hot anger burns in her chest. "Listen, don't get cocky and confused. We're partnering up because we have a mutual problem. That doesn't mean you get special privileges now. And that doesn't mean we're not going to kill your team when we face off." She jabs a finger at his nose to emphasize her point, though honestly she'd like to burn off his stupid hair. Does that count as reason enough to get her team knocked out of the tournament?

Tahno smirks. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll knock us all dead," he says. And with that he turns on his heel and strides off, leaving a steaming Korra to cross her arms and regret ever feeling sad for that jerk loser.

* * *

Yesterday night by Yue Bay.

"This is _hopeless_!" Korra yells to herself as she storms off towards that wide expanse of water. The surface is faintly illuminated by pale moonlight and the burning city lights. She goes out on a wooden dock and sits down so her feet hang inches above the water. The two light sources blend in moving pockets of gold and white that ripple across incoming waves.

"Which is why I think we should recruit more authorities to help us."

Korra glances over her shoulder. She hadn't realized he'd been following her from the library. Every other night they'd parted by the bottom steps and gone off on their separate ways. "Why are you still here?" she asks. "We're done for the day."

He shrugs. "Hiding from my life, what else."

She doesn't know what to say to that, nor does she know what to say when he sits beside her on the dock. In a few minutes she will probably stand and go home, but for now they sit together in a pocket of silence. A fish flips its tail in the water. She squints hard for more motion, but the water is still now except for small waves. That's the way of life. Some living things pass briefly across your life and never come back once they're gone.

"What do you know about kissing?" he asks suddenly, without prelude.

Korra's shoulders tense. "Listen, if you think—"

"Don't worry, I told you. I've got standards, Uhvatar. I just wanted to know how you feel about kissing strangers."

"I _don't_, unlike you," she snaps. "If the rumors are true."

He smirks. It's a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Which ones have you heard?"

"That you've been with dozens of women."

He nods. "Something like that."

"What do you think you can teach me? How to whore around with my mouth?"

"The mouth," Tahno says, "doesn't matter." He says this as if he's suddenly some schoolteacher explaining an elementary concept to a very small and wide-eyed child.

Korra crosses her arms. No Avatar would stand that kind of superiority. She's about to smack him across the head (she _does _punch her problems away, after all) when he adds, "That's because real kissing isn't about the mouth, sweetheart. Not that you would've given that any thought."

_Real kissing_, she echoes.

_Exactly. _And he explains.

Tahno tells her there's a difference between the fake kisses you throw around with cheap women and the real ones reserved for people you love. Fake kisses involve a relaxed mouth. Not one where you kiss with your lips sealed tight, but the kind where your teeth instinctively part and you can slip your tongue into your lover's mouth. These fake kinds of kisses leave their marks as physical memories on the tongue, teeth, throat. Real kisses are the ones you give to children and the elderly. The ones you leave on your friend's cheek when they're in trouble or badly hurt. Real kisses don't touch the mouth because you're leaving an emotional imprint on the lives of people you care for. When nothing is left of the body, the heart still remains.

"You've given this a lot of thought," she says.

He shrugs. "When you've had a lifetime of just one kind, you wonder what the other must be like."

Korra looks out across the soft moonlit water. Another fish flips its tail at the surface. This time she reaches for the droplets of water hovering in the air and holds them in place. She and Tahno are both in a place of silence that's oddly comfortable. She would even call it cozy, though that seems like the strangest of words for a place that's not warm at all. But what is_ cozy_ if not a manmade word to describe a temporary haven of safety, a place where you can hit a pause button on the whole wide world for just a few precious seconds? Soon the world will resume its usual pace. She knows this. But it's appropriate that, for that rare span of seconds when her rival is less enemy and more friend, everything stays as motionless as the breath trapped inside her lungs. A breath she only now realizes she'd been holding for some time.

"When you left for Republic City, did you kiss your mother goodbye?" he asks. She glances at the profile of his face. His eyes are closed. Thoughtful? But there's the intense furrow of his eyebrows. Guilty?

"I don't remember," she admits. Did she? Why does that matter, anyway? She wants to call his rival out on being oddly sentimental tonight, but suddenly he pushes up to his feet.

"See you at our big match tomorrow, Uhvatar," he taunts as usual.

She feels there's something missing as he wanders off in the direction of the big city, though at first she doesn't know what. The evening lights are gold on his hair, on his clothes, on his skin. Like candlelight. And then she realizes what's absent from his voice: its usual fire.

And just a little of the life.

* * *

Meanwhile across the pond on Air Temple Island in the present time, Tahno is now looking not at her but at the water with the twin fish swimming within it. He touches the surface with the tip of one finger. Ripples originate outwards in lazy, concentric circles. They spread until they lap against the shore nearest Korra, growing from a single small point to a wide ring of moving water.

"You should probably head home," she tells him. "Get ready for your match."

He smirks without looking up. "I've been ready for weeks. It's you who needs to go home to get a change of pants before we go for it."

She's about to ask why she'd need to do that when she remembers his snide little comment a few days back about_ peeing in my pants over here_. Bastard. She'll show him in the championship round. She'll know his whole team.

"You're dead tonight, Wolfbat," Korra snaps.

Tahno's eyes flick up. "Don't count on it," he says.

The young Avatar returns his confident smirk across the wide distance between them. This time, she can't wait to prove him wrong.

_A/N: Foreshadowing? Who, me? Nah. Wouldn't dream of it._


	6. Commemoration

_A/N: Well, I hope this tugs on your heartstrings at least a little . . . especially if you recall how important water bending is to Tahno from the fourth chapter. And, more importantly, the consequences of losing something that ties him so strongly to the earth._

They touch three times the night of the final championship round.

Their first touch comes soon after Korra straps her helmet into place in the locker room. She rests her fingertips gently on the visor and hopes it won't crack under a Wolfbat assault.

"Oh, look at that. It's my favorite team of losers." Tahno leans against the doorway to the room, his mouth stretched in its usual smirk.

Mako cracks his knuckles and makes a pointed advance on their rival as if simple physical intimidate could make the waterbender shudder. "Why do you keep getting into our business?" he snaps.

"Yeah, and the match is in a few minutes," Bolin adds. "Go back to your own team."

Korra resists the urge to throw Tahno a rude gesture involving her middle finger. "Or did you come to tell us you're backing out? Too scared to face us, huh?"

"We need to talk," he tells her. "Right now."

Mako grabs Korra's shoulder. "No way. It's some kind of sabotage."

"We don't trust nasty dudes," Bolin agrees.

But the young Avatar hesitates. Tahno's eyes lock on hers, and she feels the steady thrumming of their linked heartbeats. Why would he come here now with minutes to go before the match if it wasn't vitally important?

"I'll just be a minute," she assures her teammates. Both brothers gawk at her retreating back as she follows Tahno out into the hall. "Okay, what?" she prompts once they're out of earshot. "This better be serious."

"I'm worried you'll be tempted to cheat, Uhvatar. So I want to lay down some rules."

"How, exactly, do you imagined I'd pull that off?"

"Think how easy it would be for me to distract you during the match if I kick myself in the shin while you're going through a maneuver."

Damn. Korra hadn't really thought about that.

"But it's a two-way road because you'd return the favor," he says. "So let's just agree to avoid all that. Can we make that deal?"

She stares into his strange gray eyes and tries to see through his veil of douchebaggery to a trustworthy person inside. Nope. Can't see it. But if he breaks his end of the bargain, she can always just break off her promise. "Fine," she says. "Truce."

"Truce," he agrees. He extends a hand, and she takes it.

And so their first touch is her gloved hand on his gloved hand and the contact of skin on skin between their open fingers. They crush each other's hands in a touch that is neither gentle nor fleeting. But there is still something here. She looks at the half-smirk on the parting of his lips and decides that tonight she will humble him. Korra will strike him down from a self-deluded platform of godliness, and she will do it when he's vulnerable out there in the heat of a referee-regulated struggle for dominance in front of thousands of his screaming fans.

She growls _watch your back, Wolfbat_, and she means it.

He nods approvingly. "Take care, sweetheart," he says.

* * *

Once in the ring Korra discovers that apparently cheating is actually entirely legal, but only when Tahno and his Wolfbats are the ones pulling it off. She learns this in the midst of touching her rival again, though this second time is not through skin contact. Their touch is the skimming of water on water as their hands manipulate pulses of living liquid at each other. Korra feels her element surge through her blood and channel through her fingertips, and she uses her raw power to fight back however she can. Yet there is only so much she can do when the referee refuses to call out blatant cheating tactics. At least the highlight of her night is facing off alone against Tahno in the round two tiebreaker.

"I'm taking this one," she tells her friends when the Fire Ferrets win their coin toss. Her eyes cut to Tahno. "Let's go!" she calls. "You and me, pretty boy!"

"Thought you'd never ask," he says. He saunters forward in his usual exaggerated style, his feet dancing through a series of gestures that say _you can't touch me, Uhvatar_.

She punches herself hard in the arm to remind him that she always can now. Then her body automatically settles into a natural waterbending stance as she gauges the distance between them on the small middle platform.

"Come on little girl," he taunts. "Give me your best shot."

The sneer of his mouth is so different from the broken glint she thought she glimpsed that one night by Yue Bay. Korra is grateful for this because she has no reason to feel anything but selfish pride as she knocks his stupid helmet off his stupid head and hair. Her friends congratulate her with things like _nice one! _and _that's the stuff, you're my hero! _But where her attention lingers is on the Wolfbat waterbender's clenched teeth and his glare that is not used to this shade of defeat, this shade of humility, this shade of betrayal. Because she's not supposed to be better. She's supposed to let him win.

Korra grins behind her visor. Tough luck, losers.

But of course the _losers _are still getting help from the referee, still cheating with things like crushing stone discs into large pieces and enveloping the rocks in water, and there's only so much the Fire Ferrets can hold off before even their best honest tactics get them knocked over the edge of the arena in a knockout victory. Korra is caught by the pool of water that cradles her gently before pushing her back towards air. She breaks the surface with a gasp and takes off her head gear, only to catch sight of something entirely unexpected. Sparks are flying around the stands, and on the lower platform near the water stands Amon's dear Lieutenant. He raises electrified kali sticks and plunges them into the water before Korra's desperate water strike can reach him.

The intensity of the electric voltage rips like fire under her skin. It would knock her unconscious if not for another even stronger force, a primal fear freshly ignited that sends a hormonal surge of _I won't let you steal this from me_ through her blood and body. The combination of lightning shock and terror leaves her dazed. She's unable to do much but cycle air through her lungs, but at least she's awake. Aware. A rope snags around her ankle and drags her slowly through the water toward shore. Adrenaline quickens her heart. She feels the phantom grip of restraining hands on her arms. Feels pressure against a point directly between her eyebrows. The smooth gesture of someone's thumb on her forehead, pressing down.

Somewhere behind her closed eyelids and as fine as a glass shard working its way through her skull, there comes a breath not of physical pain but emotional pleading. A begging shriek so raw it threatens to cut through flesh down to her very heart.

_Korra! _

His name is a whisper on her tongue. "Tahno?"

Equalist hands are dragging her out of the water now. She's faintly aware that someone is binding her with rope against a pole, or is she imagining this? The lingering pain of the lightning shock tugs her back towards calm unconsciousness . . . until, suddenly, a solid sheet of water smashes against her face. It fills her mouth, burns her eyes, drowns her body. Korra hovers in limbo between earth and air, trapped in a layer of water so cold it burns. An element that imposes its will over her own. An element that doesn't respond when her fingers reach out to recruit its help. An element that defies her as she claws desperately to the surface and swims to shore, only to climb out and crumple on solid land with full knowledge of a single fatal fact.

She can't bend water.

She can't bend water ever again.

This is her final waking thought before she slumps forward and passes out.

* * *

Korra isn't entirely aware of the rush that comes after, though she does cling to a few critical and desperate facts.

Bolin's clever teeth-clicking trick with Pabu. Amon's speech to the attendees of the pro-bending match somewhere far overhead. The fire ferret biting through their bindings. Her own voice yelling _I'm going after Amon_. Mako warning her _be careful_ as she plunges into the water and spins around beneath. Whatever earlier fear she had about her bending must have been some lightning-induced delusion because she easily conjures a spiraling water tower that carries her skyward. Together with Lin, they confront the Equalists on equal terms until a struggle between the young Avatar and the Lieutenant sends Korra plummeting down towards the arena. It's only a cable thrown by the police chief that saves the young Avatar's life. The cable swings her to safety, and Korra lands in a heap by the stands. She rolls to her hands and knees as Lin runs over to help her get up.

"You alright?"

Korra nods. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

"Don't mention it, kid." They both gaze up to the hole in the roof. "Look like we lost this one," she adds, staring at a zeppelin soaring away through the black night.

There's a sound of footsteps behind her. Korra turns just as Mako jogs up and wraps her in his arms. She's struck by his immediacy and the warm point of his chin against her shoulder. He's holding her so tightly. She's never been held like this by a person she admires, and for a moment she lets herself melt against his strong arms.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he tells her. Is that really worry, or does she only desperately imagine it into his voice?

"Me too!" Bolin calls, hugging them both.

And then they are silent, and this quiet restores Korra more strength than could any of their words. Those who have true friends like hers learn this secret truth about life: the strongest pillars in our lives are those people who are willing to share the weight of tragedy. The friends who offer to stand beside you and listen even when there is no miracle healing solution to your grief. The friends who, when faced with the reality of their own powerlessness, still touch your wounded heart with their gentle hands. _I'm always here for you_, the true friend's presence says without him even needing to speak.

Through this silent hug, Mako and Bolin reaffirm once more that they are Korra's true friends for life.

She savors this last fragment of peace before stepping back and glancing to where Tenzin has just rested a hand on Lin's shoulder. The police chief whispers something about her disbelieve, and Tenzin agrees with _he played us all . . . Republic City is at war. _

And in every war, there are bitter casualties.

"Where's Tahno?" Korra asks, suddenly remembering the impact of cold water on her face. The thumb on her forehead. The overwhelming splinter of fear that kept her conscious in the water.

The young Avatar only has to remember Amon's presence at the arena tonight to understand that which she so wishes were not true.

"Wait, where are you going?" Mako calls as she runs back toward the arena.

"Korra!" Bolin yells.

But she has already jumped off the edge of the stands towards the water below. In one swift motion, she bends the water up so it catches her and softens the impact. A wave forms as the water falls back down. She rides the current to shore and runs to where the three uniformed Wolfbats are huddled on the lower platform.

The earthbender (Ming, right?) nudges the firebender (Shaozu, she thinks). "Hey, look who's come down," Ming says. He tries to smile, but it comes out pained and too stretched.

The firebender nods. "We saw some of what happened up there. You're pretty impressive, Avatar. You put up a great fight."

Korra skids to a halt beside them. "Are you guys okay? What happened? Did Amon . . ."

But it only takes her a moment of observing the sad scene before her to confirm her dark suspicions. Tahno's two teammates are sitting on either side of him by the water. The waterbender himself has stripped off his boots and holds his bare feet beneath the still, clear surface. One of his hands hovers above the pool. His fingers flex.

"Listen, I think we better get out of here," Shaozu suggests.

Ming stands and offers Tahno a hand. "Come on. We'll get through this."

But unlike his friends who are at least trying to adjust—or who are, in front of the Avatar herself, trying to save face—Tahno seems to be beyond caring and comprehension. He stares at the back of his hand as if the force of his gaze could will it to bend water. When the water remains flat and unresponsive, he bends forward and dips his hands into the pool. He carefully cups the water in his palms like it's too precious to be contained by any but a respectful hand. He splashes water across his face over and over as if in some ceremonial act of commemoration to that which once was his. The water left clinging to his eyelashes and cheeks is the exact color and quality of bitter human tears.

Korra wants to tell him that everything's going to be just fine and that they'll find a way to get his bending back, but the words simply won't leave her mouth. For once, she doesn't know what to do. She stands there motionless for a moment, trapped in a breathless instant of indecision. Then she remembers her silent hug by the stands with Mako and Bolin and kneels down behind Tahno.

She doesn't proclaim her intentions.

She doesn't even ask permission.

The third time they touch is when Korra simply presses her nose against the center of his back, right between his shoulder blades, and wraps her arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice breaking on the words. Because rival or comrade, foe or friend, no one deserves this fate. And whether Tahno can even process that she's trying to hold him, the young Avatar pushes her face against his back and stays there. She stays until she can feel him trembling against her cheek. And the one thing Korra knows for sure is that from here on out the fight against Amon runs deeper than her duty as the Avatar to protect the people of the city. Now it's personal. To properly commemorate Tahno's waterbending and what it meant to him, she has to beat the Equalists and dedicate her victory to his loss.

When she gets Amon, it will be for both of them.

For now, she has no idea what she might do for her bond partner. All she knows is that he'll need someone around and they're stuck with each other anyway. And it is only very distantly that she realizes two strange things as she remains kneeling there, the first of which is that his waterbending loss left no impact on her own bending despite their connection. The second of which is that, as they huddle there together, Korra feels something unexpected stirring in her chest that is beyond physical perception.

The whisper of a black, foreign grief that is distinctly not her own.

_A/N: You know how people usually search for stories on FFN by review count? So what stinks about that is that people automatically assume good stories have a lot of reviews. Few reviews = bad story. __**I**__ know that's __**not **__true. __**You**__ know that's __**not **__true. But that's what people tend to assume. So I would really, really appreciate you taking a few moments to just leave a few words if you're enjoying this story so far (we're 50% of the way finished!). Please, my dears? Also, I have a brand new tumblr account now [{ladyavatar} . {tumblr} . {com}], so feel free to go over and say hello! _


	7. Family

_A/N: Alright, you guys. Here comes a chapter from both Korra and Tahno's points of views—I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I believe the song "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay well fits Tahno. So, enjoy these lyrics:_

_I used to rule the world  
Seas would rise when I gave the word  
Now in the morning I sleep alone  
Sweep the streets I used to own_

For a few brief days, Korra hopes Tahno might actually be strong enough to accept what's happened and turn out to be okay.

She searches for glimpses of hope as they spend mornings and afternoons chasing down healers all over the city. They come begging before the best healers, hoping to gain a handful of guidance. Sometimes it takes hours sitting in small waiting rooms while more urgent cases are attended to. They rarely speak, preferring long gaps of silence. For Korra, his reluctance to talk makes it easier. What can she as the Avatar, future master of all four elements, say to someone who's lost the single element that made him whole? He won't admit how much water meant to him, but she sees the weight of loss even in how he sits. Before, he always leaned back with his chest and shoulders wide and open to take up space. Now he tends to lean forward, off-center as always, but gravity is dragging him down. He keeps his hands in focus. Just staring at his pale fingers resting on his lap.

"How did you get to Republic City?" she asks while they're waiting to see yet another healer, the third one of the day.

She speaks because usually the silence is fine, but sometimes there is a flicker of something more than quiet in the stuffy conditions of the waiting room. It's not anything on the outside but an internal force. She feels a lonely surge of sadness loom up so sudden and large. With his bending gone, Korra doesn't think Tahno needs more weight on his shoulders, but she's afraid the strength of their bond may be growing beyond physical sensations. Right now that's on the backburner. Fix his bending, then fix their connection. In the meantime, she can use the flickers of his emotions—that's her best guess of what she's feeling—to gauge if he needs a distraction. That's when she lures him into a chat.

"Hey," she says again. "I'm not talking to the wall."

"Why not?" he says. "You're equally thick. You could talk on the same level."

An attempt at humor. This in itself is a good sign. It's been a few days since the incident, and he's gotten a bit more lighthearted little by little. She still remembers what those moments down on the lower level of the pro-bending arena were like. The unbearable weight of his sorrow.

_Come on_, she whispered against his back. _Let's get out of here_.

But Tahno refused to get up. He simply sat on the edge of the lower platform and stared into the water.

_I'm sorry Amon took your bending_, she said. But of course, words don't change anything.

A hand came down on her shoulder. _You go make sure everyone else is okay, _Ming said._ We'll take care of Tahno_.

_Yeah, we'll take care of him. He's our leader_, Shaozu seconded.

Korra nodded and gently punched Tahno's upper arm. _Stay tough, pretty boy_.

She got up, knowing she had to return to her friends up above. They'd be worried. But she couldn't help but feel like Tahno had lost more than bending. He looked like a man who had lost everything that ever held meaning in his life.

But that was a few days ago, and hopefully he's recovered a bit by now.

"So, seriously," she asks in the waiting room. "How long have you been in the city?"

"I was little when I came here to live with my aunt. She raised me for a while. Not that long. Ever since I was about ten years old, I've had to fight my own way through life."

Korra isn't sure she's ready to hear a sob story about his past. She's also not sure he needs to be reminded of the details of bad memories at a time like this. "Are you from the North or South Water Tribe?" she asks on a lighter note.

Tahno chuckles. "You know, there aren't only two Water Tribes."

This is when the healer calls him in for his session. She stays behind in the waiting room, hoping the answer will be something other than _I've tried everything in my power, but I can't restore his bending_. But of course, that's the only answer they ever hear. It's the same this time, too. After about half an hour, Tahno returns to collect Korra. "What did the healer say?" she asks.

"That my connection to bending has been severed. It's permanent."

She wishes she could do something to at least ease his suffering, even if only for a few minutes. "Hey, you said liked tea. Want to get a cup somewhere before we head home?"

Tahno suggests they visit a traditional tea shop called the Jasmine Dragon. Some posters on the walls explaining its history refer to origins in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. The original shop's popularity and excellent tea led to a sister shop opening in Republic City many years later.

"Hey, pretty boy."

"Hmm?"

"You're a pretty good boy sometimes," she says. Her attempt at something between teasing and compliment. "Not all that bad when you're not being a total douche."

"Growing fond of me, little girl?"

"I'm not _that _little. I can take care of myself."

Tahno swirls the loose leaves around in this cup. "Right now, you're taking care of both of us."

Korra suspects this is the closest to gratitude she can expect. She takes a sip of her tea. She'll accept it.

"When I was little, I hated this city," he admits. "All I wanted was to go home to my family because I missed everyone so much. But I kind of like it here more now," he says. "To be honest, you could say I'm starting to think I lost my heart in Republic City."

"In a good way?"

For the first time since she's known him, his smile is warm and genuine. He keeps his eyes on hers as he takes a sip of tea. "The best way possible."

And in such precious moments, Korra believes he's really going to be okay after all.

* * *

But soon after, that illusion ends.

The unraveling of her hopes begins at the worst possible moment when Hiroshi Sato has just pushed one of the control levers of his mechatank, shooting out a grappling claw at herself, Lin, and Tenzin. Korra jumps out of the way, proud for correctly guessing that Asami's father was a lying, no-good Equalist. Problem is, she still has to bring that discovery to the surface. If she's killed down here in the secret underground factor, the rest of the city will never know of Hiroshi's treachery.

But fighting back would be a whole lot easier if not for the cloudy haze beginning to infiltrate her mind . . .

"No, no!" she shrieks. Somewhere far off in the city, that fucking bastard is drowning his sorrows in alcohol. She has to end this fight quick while she can still think. Korra whips around to kick and punch blasts of fire at a nearby mechatank. A blast of air comes from over her shoulder to help. Tenzin runs past her, each of his steps a different attack that unleashes a strong force of airbending wind. They double-team because Korra's no longer sure how long she can fight off the substance slowly saturating her brain and bloodstream. Her firebending gestures grow weaker and clumsier. When the mechatank she's fighting shoots out another grapping claw, she's able to dodge with a series of backward flips. Summoning her fading concentration, she earthbends a chunk out of the floor and flings it at the mechatanks.

What does not penetrate her foggy mind is the claw coming at her from behind.

It catches her right in the back and flings her into a wide metal pipe on the far side of the factory. There is crushing pain against her chest, a sudden trickle of emotional terror, and a swirling sphere of air that catches her as she falls into unconsciousness.

Korra doesn't remember much of what happens next other than the fact that Mako and Bolin saved her life and then accepted her offer to live at the Air Temple. All she remembers is wanting nothing more than to get to the city and track down the bastard who almost got them both killed. She gets it right on her first guess and finds him nursing a hangover over a bowl of noodles in his usual corner at Narook's later that night. The White Falls Wolfbats posters are still on the walls around the booth, though one of them is beginning to peel. It's near closing time and they're the only two around.

"Feeling sorry for yourself again, huh?" she snarls.

"Hey, Uhvatar," he says without looking up.

She doesn't have time for formalities. "We made a _deal!_" she yells, and she would have tossed in _you stupid fuck _to adequately summarize her entire opinion of his pathetic life if not for the almost perpetual grief flowing from his end of the bond. "That wasn't one of your scheduled drinking hours, and I was fighting Equalists. I was almost killed, okay? If it weren't for my friends, we'd both be dead now."

Tahno stares into the bowl of noodles. "Maybe we wouldn't both die. Maybe that would just break our connection."

"_Look at me_." She knocks the bowl off the table with a swipe of her arm. The noodles splatter all over the floor. The dish cracks into two pieces. The two halves go spinning off, breaking into more crumbling fragments. "We're not risking that, okay?"

"Sorry I'm such a burden," he says calmly.

"You think this is a game?" Korra feels like punching something else, but it's not enough to throw bowls around. Why can't he at least pretend to care how much trouble he almost got her into? He's just sitting there with his sad little grin. There is nothing she wants more than to shatter his calm. She grabs the collar of his jacket for emphasis. "My life was fine until you showed up in it! You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Tahno doesn't flinch under her assault. His expression remains calm. Bordering detached. "Thanks for the compliment."

She wants him to feel the intensity of her anger, and she knows he has to because of their bond, but he just doesn't seem to give a fuck about that or anything else. Korra drags him out of his seat by the collar and only lets go because he's choking and that means she can't breathe, either. Tahno doesn't even look up at her from his place on the floor. He just stares at the two broken pieces of bowl and picks up one half.

"You've gone and ruined good pottery," he says.

If it weren't for the expected pain rebound, she would kick him in the chest. "You really don't even care. You're not even _pretending _to give a fuck that I was almost killed."

He doesn't say anything immediately, but then he picks himself up off the floor and smoothes down his shirt. "You're right," he says without looking at her. "I got carried away. I guess I'll go home and punish myself for what I've done." His eyes flick up. "The pretty boy needs a time-out, huh?"

"You need to screw your brain in more tightly and use it sometimes," she snaps. "And will you stop joking around! This is serious. You treat everything like a joke."

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, Uhvatar. I'll be dead serious from now on."

She's shaking from head to foot as he brushes past her. "Good," she says, her voice almost as calm as his and definitely far colder.

Tahno hesitates at the very door, his hand halfway through the gesture of pushing it open. "Hey, Korra?"

"What do you want?" she grumbles.

"Thanks for trying to help me."

She can feel the phantom prick of fingernails digging into her palms even though her own hands hang loosely at her sides. With that kind of intense pressure, Tahno's probably drawing blood from his skin. "Whatever," she says.

He glances back at her. "Can you promise me something?"

"Depends," she says. There's something softer in his eyes now that seems sincere.

"You gotta get Amon for me."

Korra closes her eyes. Then she nods. An affirmation. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Thank you," he says. It's his most genuine moment of gratitude.

This is their parting: Tahno gives her a half-smile and a casual salute. _See you around, Uhvatar_, he says. And for a moment she sees the flicker of that cocky bastard from Narook's surrounded by his posse, the jerk who offered her tea on his yacht, the one she threw a scroll at in the library, the one who teased her about meditation, the one who beat her in the pro-bending championship but really beat himself. The unique shape of his voice on her nickname suggests he's going to be okay after all. But as he turns away, the smile drops. He looks back at her until the final moment when the curtain of his limp hair hides his gaze. And then Tahno walks off alone into the world, leaving Korra to watch his retreating back as she stands between the two broken halves of the bowl.

It is only later that night as the young Avatar lies awake in her bed back on Air Temple Island that she realizes two very strange things.

The first is her feelings ever since they parted at Narook's, or lack thereof. She feels no foreign physical sensations. She feels nothing at all but a void where feeling once was. Well, almost, because there is one lingering emotion left. Korra feels the heavy weight of sorrow and know that somewhere far off Tahno is probably trying to bend water again even though he knows he can't. That he never can again. But, this is not the thing that surprises her most.

She sits up suddenly in bed. _Korra_. It's always been _Uhvatar _or _sweetheart_.He's never spoken her real name until their parting today. Something feels wrong about that. And despite the fact the she doesn't feel pain or anything really bad coming from Tahno's end of the spirit bond, she digs around her room for a scrap of paper. She finds it in a drawer. Written on it is a copied address that he originally wrote in pen on her arm.

_It's the penthouse_, he told her. _Just in case._

Tonight, Korra thinks it's finally time to pay a visit to her rival at his home in Republic City.

* * *

Only a few hours ago, Tahno stood in front of the kitchen sink and ran water over his trembling fingers. His element ran down his arm and pooled on the floor in spreading puddles that caught the sunset light. Painted red by the dying light, the faucet water was his heart bleeding out on hardwood flooring.

He turned off the faucet, each handle cold but not nearly as cold as the _nothing_ that was the sum of his entire life now. Even drinking couldn't drown out that kind of anguish. Not permanently. And Korra's anger tonight when she came to say _you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me _sealed something in his determination to carry out that which he had been considering for a few days now. How could he live in a world where the most precious of all things was taken away from him?

He wasn't sure he could. No, he was certain he couldn't.

That's because Tahno's life isn't some fiction story where the loss of his bending came to mean something else entirely. He didn't discover some secret truth in what was taken from him. Having tea with the Avatar didn't strip him of the shackles of his grief. The water running down his arm and pooling in puddles of sunset blood wasn't a symbol of rebirth, renewal, or regeneration. Korra probably expected to be a witness to his healing. What she didn't expect is that his story is not fiction but real life, and sometimes in real life you wake up and realize things aren't okay and never will be again.

And then you make the only choice that's left to stop the horror that will never grow mild in your mind.

Tahno suspected he would come to this realization even as Korra was yelling at him at Narook's. He didn't mean to be a burden. He even wanted to apologize, but he was never great at showing how he felt. This way would probably be easier on everything. At least on her, the girl he'd grown a little used to having around when she wasn't treating him like the scum of the earth and instead tried to understand how he was feeling. He liked drinking tea with Korra. He hoped she liked it, too, and would remember that in the years moving forward.

Tahno wishes he could be a part of those years, but all of his years end tonight. They end with the black key he holds in his hand, and one he slowly slides into a lock used to open the door that has only been opened once before. He never expected to hesitate at such a moment, but for a brief instant he does. He knows why he does.

As he stands there with the key halfway turned in the lock, one fragile spark of an emotion beyond loss breaks through the dark world that is his grief. He tries to understand what he's feeling and where it's coming from. He can't answer the second question, but he does recognize the quality of this emotion beating through his heart. Concern. Worry. Someone scared for another living being.

Yes. Tahno has felt this way before.

His earliest memory of fearing for someone else's life was when he was a very small boy. One evening some foreign merchants came through his village. They were selling exotic animals. A tiny version of himself—he doesn't remember being older than three—dragged his mother to the market to buy a strange little pup brought from the caves of the Earth Kingdom.

His mother argued _you can't have that_, but you don't tell a child _no_ without puppy eyes and pleading as your reward.

_Please_, he cried, tugging on her sleeve.

The merchant grinned, his eyes filled with the shine of yuans to be earned. _If raised from a young age, wolfbats can be tamed. I will even give you a discount since you two seem to have bonded already._

Tahno poked his fingers through the cage bars. The wolfbat, young enough that it could be held in two cupped palms, licked the little boy's fingertips with its rough tongue. He giggled and turned his begging eyes up at his mother again. _Please, I promise I'll take care of him. _

His mother smacked her forehead with her hand. _You know I'm going to end up doing everything—_

_No, no! I promise. I'll take care of him, and he'll take care of me, _Tahno pleaded. He hugged her waist so tightly and pushed his face against her stomach, absorbing her warmth.

His mother ran her fingers through his hair. He remembers this soothing gesture back from a time when he had a family to call his own. It was a time when he knew the meaning of the thing they call love. Back when his mother kneeled and wrapped him in the warm world that was her arms and said _okay, you can have the wolfbat pup_. Tahno remembers his mother, and he misses her, and he will never forget the thing he did not do: say goodbye when he left his village home long ago. Memory is always pain. This much, he's learned in life. Sometimes Tahno wishes he could feel like there was a family for him in the world, but who could ever love a loser without bending like the person he was now?

Hoping for a family was part of a life in which he was a bender.

In this life, it's just an irrelevant memory.

The key held now in his hand?

That's freedom from pain.

Forever.

Tahno stands before the black door with the black key in his hand and his heart in a black place of hoping for something he could never, ever have again. He tries to banish the growing worry from his mind. He shouldn't be feeling this. There's nothing to worry about now except remembering the order in which he must use the things beyond this door. But that's a physical and not emotional recollection. He's good with the physical. He remembers how girls kiss. He remembers every single girl.

He wonders what Korra's kiss might feel like. He wonders why he cares. Maybe he cares because he's kind of worried about how she'll deal with learning of what happened to him tomorrow morning. Maybe because he'd started to see her as his temporary family here in the city. But she'll probably only be happy. At least he won't be a burden on her life any longer.

Tahno smiles. At least he'll have done something right in his lonely life.

And so he turns the black key in its lock to open the door and goes through, leaving his life in the hands of fate.

_A/N: The next chapter is going to be dark. Very dark. Just leaving that warning here so you guys can run and hide if you're not ready for what's coming. And, yes, there were a few allusions to _Avatar: The Last Airbender _in this chapter. I hope you caught at least some of them. And here are some more appropriate lyrics from "Viva La Vida."_

_One minute I held the key  
Next the walls were closed on me  
And I discovered that my castles stand  
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand_


End file.
